He’d just finished a run. Sweat drenched him. As he swallowed, droplets slid down the moving line of his throat, clean and almost indecent in how quietly sensual it was.
The thin plastic bottle looked fragile, but in his large hand it stayed perfectly shaped. When he finished, he set it down and lifted his jersey to wipe his face.
He was lean, but tightly built. The white jersey rose, revealing firm lines across his waist and abdomen—male heat, sharp and unmistakable. Then the fabric fell again, and his brows and eyes returned to their usual calm.
Even after hard exercise, his skin stayed that cool, pale tone, as if body and spirit were separate things, never interfering with each other.
His phone chimed. He picked it up, glanced once, and pocketed it. Then he said to Huai Jing beside him, “I should go.”
Huai Jing had just finished drinking too, elbows braced on his knees, sweat shining on his skin. He didn’t look tired at all. His gaze was lazy, amused.
“It’s early. Why are you leaving?”
“To cook,” Liu Qianxiu said.
Huai Jing stared. “It’s only four.”
“Mm.” Liu Qianxiu didn’t deny it.
Huai Jing leaned back, long legs stretched out, arms hooked behind him on the bench. He looked at Liu Qianxiu with a knowing smile.
“Xingkong said you brought a girl yesterday. Want to introduce her properly sometime?”
Introduce: bring her to meet friends over a meal, as Xu Xingkong had been introduced.
Liu Qianxiu stood. He looked at Huai Jing. Huai Jing looked back, unhurried.
Liu Qianxiu was silent for a beat, as if weighing it.
Then he said, “Later.”
“Fine.” Huai Jing didn’t press. That was how they were. If Liu Qianxiu wanted to say something, he would. If he didn’t, then it wasn’t time.
Liu Qianxiu showered in the locker room, changed, and drove back to Nanfeng Apartments. Mu Wan’s message said she was already on her way. She should be arriving soon.
He parked underground, gym bag over his shoulder, basketball in hand, and swiped into the elevator. The elevator rose from B1. On the first floor, it stopped.
The doors opened.
Mu Wan stood outside.
She’d been watching the ads on the screen by the elevator. When she heard the ding, she looked in. The moment she saw Liu Qianxiu, her eyes curved.
Today he looked sporty: a white T-shirt and black shorts. Simple, but somehow refined on him, like a model in a campaign. He was tall and pale, and even the basics looked expensive.
A black gym bag hung from his left shoulder. A basketball rested in his right hand. His palm was so large he could grip it with one hand, fingers slightly curved, knuckles even, long and beautiful.
Mu Wan had never understood in high school why girls loved boys who played basketball.
Now she did.
When you liked someone, everything they did looked impossibly cool.
“Is that your basketball?” Mu Wan asked, eyes darting to it.
“Mm.” Liu Qianxiu answered.
Mu Wan studied the light brown ball. “Can I try? I’ve never played.”
It was only five. Dinner wasn’t urgent. It had rained earlier; now it had stopped, leaving the air cool and clean—perfect weather for a court.
Mu Wan looked at him, a soft plea in her eyes.
The elevator doors began to close. Liu Qianxiu lifted his right hand, stopped the door, and stepped out as he said, “Come on.”
Mu Wan smiled, gave a small hop behind him, and followed happily.
Nanfeng Apartments had a private basketball court. In a high-end complex, even the sports facilities were neat and well-built. The basketball and tennis courts sat side by side behind a tall iron fence.
The rain hadn’t fully dried. The court was damp but no longer puddled. At this hour, it was empty. The two of them entered, one after the other.
Mu Wan walked straight under the hoop and looked up at the rim high above her. She reached, pale arm stretching, still nowhere close. But Mu Wan believed in her athletic instincts. She lowered her arm and called to Liu Qianxiu, who stood out past the three-point line.
“Liu Qianxiu. Ball.”
Her voice echoed softly in the rain-cooled court.
Liu Qianxiu tossed it over. It rolled neatly to her feet.
Thin clouds covered the sky. The air was damp and clean. In the empty court, the slender woman lifted the ball under the blue hoop, aimed at the rim, and let it go.
Bang.
The ball hit the backboard and dropped.
She wasn’t discouraged. She picked it up, gave the rim a couple of pretend feints, then threw again with both arms.
This time, it only kissed the rim.
The ball arced through the clean air, bounced off, and rolled behind her. Mu Wan turned back, brows pinching, breathing lightly, lips parted—wet and red.
“Liu Qianxiu, I can’t get it in,” she said, her voice sweet like ripe fruit. She walked toward the ball and asked, “Can you?”
The ball rolled to his feet. He stood beyond the white line and looked at her once, calm. He bent slightly and grabbed the ball with one hand. His fingers tightened, knuckles whitening.
Mu Wan stood mid-court, staring up at him. Uncertain, she asked, “You’re so far. Can you really make it?”
He didn’t answer.
He shifted the ball into his right hand, wrist bending back. His dark eyes, in the damp air, looked like deep spring water.
His wrist snapped.
The ball left his hand and flew over Mu Wan’s head.
She turned—
Bang.
A clean shot, straight through the net, as he’d walked straight into her heart.
The ball hit the ground and bounced, thumping against the court. The sound echoed in the space.
Mu Wan’s eyes flickered as she followed the ball. When it rolled near the baseline, and the court fell quiet again, she looked back at Liu Qianxiu.
Under heavy clouds, he stood tall, legs long, eyes like water, clean and distant.
“Liu Qianxiu…” Mu Wan tilted her head, starlight sparkling in her eyes as she smiled. “Are you my god? You can do everything I can’t.”
Wind stirred leaves overhead.
Something in a heart trembled.
“I’m going to make one too,” Mu Wan declared, then jogged to pick up the ball.
Her pale fingers spread over the textured surface, sharp and pretty. She backed up two steps, right under the hoop. Just as she was about to shoot—
Someone hugged her from behind.
Mu Wan caught a faint peppermint scent.
Her jaw trembled.
Her body lifted slowly higher. In her vision, the rim drew closer, suddenly reachable.
“Shoot,” Liu Qianxiu said softly behind her.
Her god had come to help her.
The author has something to say:Liu Daochang: In order for you to become a god, or not.
Ah, how sweet lol And he's finally making a move!
ReplyDeleteJust found this today, seems like a really nice story! Hopefully there's not too much drama with the cousin/Mu family.
Thanks for the chapters and stay safe!